Night Begins Here
by Simlead
Summary: 'They can handle aliens. They can handle death. But can they handle The Night' A crossover between SGA and SG-1, set at the very end of Atlantis, after they've returned to earth. Sparky, Sam/Jack, and minor hints of other pairings. First in a series. I own nothing.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This has been in planning for a while, and I finally got round to starting to post it. :) This is set at the very end of Stargate: Atlantis. I own nothing, except the plot and my OCs. Enjoy! And feel free to let me know how it was.**

* * *

If there was one thing Samantha Carter missed in the Stargate Program, it had to be fresh air. And the sunrise. The gold and baby blue meeting to for a combination she didn't see all that often... It was refreshing. But, as she headed to the unfamiliar park ahead at that raw hour, refreshing wasn't the word that came to mind. Four figures, stood amongst the bright greenery of the park, grew larger as she approached. One of them glanced over their shoulder, as though they were exactly sure they were supposed to be there.

"Oh, hey Sam." He smiled at her slightly dishevelled appearance.

"Hi, Daniel." She waved, surveying those present.

_Daniel, Teal'c, Vala, Cam, and- Wait a minute... _she thought, frowning internally.

"Where's Jack?"

"Oh, he's already there, slept on his desk, I reckon. At least someone has some sense. Can't say the same for whoever had the clever idea to organize a meeting at a time like this." Vala scowled.

"I believe it was the IOA," Teal'c replied in his usual, ever-calm tone.

"I'll have them know, I had to get up at 5:30. _5:30. _I'll ki-"

"My heart bleeds," Cam interjected, "but we need to get going. Or we'll have more to complain about than bedheads and only 2 hours of sleep."

* * *

"General O'Neill." Jack turned at the sound. "There are some officers that want to talk to you."

"Tell them to wait, I've got a briefing in five minutes," he ordered, turning over his collar.

"Four, actually, Sir." And there was the smooth voice that he'd somewhat missed. Peering over at the staircase of the SGC's briefing room, he acknowledged the presence of his friends, and focused his eyes on the speaker. Her blonde hair was still ruffled and knotted, and the uniform jacket and T-shirt hung about her shoulders as if to say 'I just woke up', but she was radiant none the less.

_Damn_ _it,_ Jack mentally slapped himself. _She's supposed to be a friend._

"Take a seat, I doubt those guys will be here soon," he advised them. Teal'c nodded in his direction before following Daniel, Vala, and Cam to the soon-to-be-packed meeting table.

"Sam."

"Sir."

"No need for the sir now. I think we pretty much moved beyond that. Anyway, what happened to the..." he trailed off and twirled a lock of her hair in between his fingers.

"Ah, that. Couldn't find the brush in time."

With sharp creak, the door opened and Jack all but tore his hand away from Sam. It wouldn't bode well for his career if he was caught running his fingers through a sub-ordinate's hair. Nodding curtly, he moved past her to greet the new arrivals accompanying Woolsey into the room.

"General. We certainly have a lot to talk about." This was one of the few lines that could wipe the bogus smile clean off of Jack's face. As he took his seat, he decided that it was indeed going to be a long briefing.

"We take several precautions to ensure that the Stargate Program stays a secret. But with Atlantis' presence on Earth, the task has been made more difficult. As for now, the city remains cloaked, but further action must be taken if it's to stay where it is," the female of the three IOA officers announced.

"And we're here to discuss that?" Daniel was the first to speak, which was probably for the best. By the looks on his teammates' faces, their replies would've been...less subdued. Particularly Vala's. A man, seated beside Jack, nodded. The airforce General rolled his eyes, barely holding back from snorting.

_I wonder where I was when all those 'safety precautions' were being taken, _he mused.

"Yes, Dr. Jackson. We believe that the only way we can achieve this is if we are to work together with both Mr. Woolsey and yourselves to create a solution."

"I assume you have suggestions, then?" Vala's apprehensive voice came into the discussion. The IOA officers shot her a collective glare at her tone, but she simply brushed it off indignantly and awaited their reply.

"Actually, we were hoping for your input, considering you judge yourselves to be the 'experts' on the Stargate Program."

Anger sparked within Jack as the words slipped from the woman's tongue. Biting his lip to prevent it from bubbling over, he looked down at his clipboard and then at Sam, who seemed completely oblivious. He scribbled something down on the paper, cast his eyes along the briefing table, and quickly tossed it to her. When the note tumbled into her lap, so knew immediately who it was from. She gently unfolded it.

_'S,  
__Fishing later?  
__J'_

Flipping the sheet over, she jotted away and slipped it back to him. As she returned her attention to the ongoing briefing, as Daniel tried to cut through the hostility between Vala and the IOA members.

_'Sure, what time?'_

_'Lunch? Might make waking up this early easier.'_

With a wink, he pushed the note across the table, just when Teal'c had begun to explain his opinion on a 'peaceful solution'. A soft blushed rose to Sam's cheeks, and she smiled that addictive smile - magnetic, electrifying, infectious. It took Jack several moments to process that she had nodded a long time ago, leaving him to simply become entranced by her. He snapped himself out of it and shook his head. Bad idea.

* * *

John Sheppard bolted upright, chest heaving up and down as he fought for oxygen. A bead of cold sweat worked a path along his features. Fear pumped through his body in the shape of adrenaline. An image of her face was imprinted forever on the back of his mind. Her cries. The way she told him to leave and he could see how willing she was to truly sacrifice herself for him. To cease to exist, just for one man.

_But she **does **exist. I **will **find her, _his inner self screamed back. A restless groan escaped his lips, and he swung his legs over the side of his bed. Despite it being so obviously past the start of his shift, he'd found it difficult to grasp something that made him want to carry on each day and so he'd slept over. At first he'd thought it was insomnia, from the flurry of attacks and losses. He'd taken pills and lied through his teeth more times than he could remember. But it only got worse. Yet no one had even an inkling, and John gained some twisted sense of pride from that. Not one person had noticed his agony since they'd returned to Earth. More than gladly, he would keep it that way.

* * *

Meanwhile, in Woolsey's office, aforementioned man hissed under his breath at the sight of his paperwork. _Excess _of paperwork, at that.

"Moving house is less fuss," he muttered.

"What was that, Mr Woolsey?" One of the 'Gate Techs (he wasn't sure which) asked. Richard jumped, but quickly regained his composure and shook his head.

"Nothing." He dismissed them with a wave of his hand. About to turn back to his, no doubt, exhausting pile of work, he then spotted a familiar figure making its way over to him. Colonel Sheppard. "Colonel, you-"

"I need a jumper." The words fell from his lips the moment he crossed the threshold of the room. The shocked expression on his commander's face was a sight to see - his eyebrows had practically started to climb his scalp.

"Colonel, why on earth... Why?"

"You know _exactly _why," John seethed, aiming to slam his fist on the desk but reigning his fury in at the last moment and settling for an agitated prod.

"Oh." Realisation dawned on Woolsey. "Dr. Weir. No. It's too risky. Even with back-up, which I presume you weren't intending upon taking."

"I can handle it-" the 2IC began, almost growling, only to be cut off by the rather harsh tone of none other than Rodney McKay.

"Get them out! Get them out of my lab!" he yelled, and charged into the room. "I tell them to be careful, but _no, _they just come charging in likes bulls in a china shop!"

"Calm down, both of-" Richard clawed helplessly at the situation.

"I've had enough of this." John sighed heavily, and turned. Despite his battered body's protests, he strode away with his head high. Elizabeth's absence had left an gaping hole in his existence. For every moment he thought on it, he drowned in deeper and colder waters. He had to escape or he never would. So he changed direction to the jumper bay, and began to kick towards the surface.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hi, I'm back for another update! Right, I want to thank all my reviewers for the support, and the people who commented over on GW. But, because this features multiple pairings, and you can't please everyone all at once, I want to point something out for those of you who ship one but not the other. If you like, you can read only team sections and sections for the ones you ship. If you feel you're missing any of the plot, I'll put a tiny recap at the end of each chapter. :) I hope this helps. There's a bit of McKeller here if you squint... Enjoy the story!**

* * *

A gentle breeze stroked Jack's skin as he placed drinks into the outdoor cooler, anticipation at Sam's visit to his cabin building steadily inside of him. Yet something wasn't quite right. Everything was in check - the deck chairs, the fishing equipment, the barbeque.

_What is it this time? _he grumbled internally. _If it's not little grey men and false gods, it's something else. A little help here, Power-Greater-Than-Me? I don't know...a vaction?!_

"Jack?" His head shot up at the sound of a woman's voice. A very familiar woman. Sunlight played upon Sam's blonde hair as she squinted to keep the same thing from her vision. He beamed and straightened up.

"Hey, Sam! Drink?" He offered one to her. She nodded and reached out, the brief contact of their skin sending pleasant vibrations back along her arms. Pushing the sensation to the back of her mind, she accepted the drink and joined him in his trek over to the deck chairs. He stood back and allowed her to move forward with an extravagant twirl of an arm. Satisfied with his reward - that megawatt smile of her's - Jack took his seat, fishing rod in hand. The cool breeze of midday tickled their faces and made the reeds flutter and snap at their feet. Despite the sun being at its highest, neither felt the temperature as they sat in peaceful silence.

"Oh, I think I caught one!" Sam chuckled, tightening her grasp on the rod in her hands. Jack dropped his own and leaned over to her.

"Damn. Got a feisty one here. You always were trouble." He grinned up at her. A little spark twinkled in his eyes and began to form a pleasant knot in the pit of her stomach. Together, the two of them had enough emotion to live in that moment forever - but apparently the world didn't like that. A shrill ringtone cut through the silence, startling Jack out of his position.

"Err, that's mine," Sam told him. She seized the phone from her coat pocket and her fingers fumbled for the 'accept' button, not even bothering to check the caller ID. However, her hands never got there. The cool plastic of her phone cover was swept from beneath her touch by rough hands. Her head whipped up to look at their owner (so fast that Jack was surprised she didn't pull a muscle) and shot him a playful glare, mouth hanging open. "Jack..."

"No phones. A deal's a deal." He smirked. Or, at least, she swore he did.

"I need to answer it, I don't know who it is," she persisted, but he only extended his arm past the wood holding them above the current and out over the waves. Almost growling, she lunged at him, as she clawed at his hand.

"Nope."

"Yes." She tugged at his shoulders. Jack almost chuckled at the effortless way she did it, as if she wasn't _really _trying to fight him.

"No." He wrestled to keep her away from his 'hostage'. But she knew he wouldn't be able to keep it up for long - he'd give in eventually, he always did.

"Yes!" Sam hissed, stopping suddenly as she acknowledged their proximity. His breath bore tantalizingly down upon her shoulder. Her lips hovered only centimetres away from his. Their hearts thundered against their rib cages, as Jack's arm curved inwards to stop her from falling out of his lap - neither of them wanted to think how she'd gotten there in the first place. In his eyes, she could see her need for moments like this reflected right back at her. _He _needed _her_. The fact made her head spin, though, despite the air of uncertainty set by IOA's plans, she took comfort from the very thought itself. Her attention snapped back to their current situation as he shifted in his seat to absent-mindedly position himself closer to her - her pulse quickened.

And, yet again, they were 'saved' by the bell. If a bell was an indignantly vibrating phone and saved meant interrupted. Jack frowned, knowing the moment was over, and Sam took it the opportunity to retrieve her phone.

"Hello? Daniel? What's wrong?" Her brow furrowed while she listened to her teammate's rambling.

"It's Sheppard."

"As in, John Sheppard?" Sam's mind zipped off in every possible directions - what could John, of all people, have done to make the archaeologist so...tongue-tied?

"Yep. He stole a jumper, the SGC just got a communication from Atlantis."

"What do you mean? They're not exactly light luggage, Daniel. Surely someone would notice?"

"No, he just walked in there and flew it out, cloaked and gone in less than a minute."

"Wow. Well, what are they going to do about it?"

"I don't know. It's the IOA's business now, isn't it? Look, I'll leave you to get o. With what you were doing. Bye."

"Bye." Sam listened, waiting until the line cut off, and turned back to Jack. She lumbered back over to her own chair and sighed.

"So what was all that about?" he asked. She simply glared. That question was really becoming a problem in her line of work.

* * *

"That bad?" Jack raised his eyebrows, shaking off the numb feeling he'd developed as he sat entranced by her explanation.

"Apparently. I mean, I knew he was missing her but I never thought he'd resort to this..." Sam shook her head.

"Trust me, even though I can only imagine how he's feeling, I've been there before. Not for long, but I was there." Jack set her with a serious gaze. She looked almost taken aback for a moment - he'd usually shrug something off, act like he could just carry on. So his current, unprecedented behaviour left her almost speechless.

"Y-you have?" she managed, when recovery became something her body was remotely interested in. Jack flashed her a half-hearted smile. "When?"

"Doesn't matter," he dodged. "I wonder how far he'll go. Might help him out."

"Jack! He'll get fired. _You'll _get fired."

"Nah." He curled his lip. "If they try to get rid of either of us, they'll just be stabbing themselves in the back."

"Just...don't do anything I wouldn't do." There was a commanding tone in her voice.

_What exactly would you do, Carter? _Jack's mind taunted him, ever so close to setting off a camera roll he was _sure _he wouldn't be able to erase without his own personal 'delete' button. Yanking himself away from the precipice, turned back to the conversation and began to meander over to the drinks' cooler, his back turned to his companion.

"So, you're basically saying I can do anything from making my own life hard to blowing up a sun. Great metaphor, Sam." His eyes rolled in their sockets.

"You know I didn't mean it like that."

"I don't think the sun sees it that way."

* * *

"I'm sorry, McKay, but the Colonel's gone too far. It'll be a court martial for him, _when _you find him." The IOA officer had just began to creep into McKay's bad books - that was, right up until he sped all the to the top with a condescending tone as a means of travel. Despite never having agreed with _his_ sort, Woolsey had helped him see his (least) favourite people in a new light. The man before him had just pulled the metaphorical sun roof shut, leaving McKay with a rising agitation.

"That's _Doctor _McKay to you. And what if I refuse?" he returned loftily.

_Two can play at this game,_ his mind churned out.

"Oh, you won't. Because, if you do, Sheppard won't be the only one court martialled." Gasps rose at the statement. Jennifer Keller, shadowing Rodney, leaned over and whispered to him.

"If it wasn't enough they wanted him just so they could sack him, now they want to sack us if we don't fall at their feet!" The scientist shook his head and placed a hand on her arm as the hiss of her voice became more intense.

"That will be all." The officer gave the pair a meaningful look and spun on their heel, nose in the air. Ronon made for the door, Teyla in tow. Later, she would claim she was simply looking out for him. The truth? Everyone was sick of the constant limbo, the way their fate was tossed around in the malevolent hands of the IOA. Even the president seemed to be wary of them... And if you can't trust the president, who can you trust?

* * *

"You don't think he'll fire us, do you?" Jennifer's eyes grew wide and frantic, and she shot a glance towards McKay as they slipped out of the briefing room. The corridors of Atlantis were packed with personnel retrieving technology that had been claimed by the IOA and others simply panicking about the sheer amount of paperwork following their arrival (and Sheppard's departure).

"I have no idea... Look, we just do what he says and hope they come round, or something," Rodney replied, flustered after the high-tempered meeting.

"Yeah, great plan. Rodney, I don't think they're backing down here. And who do you think they'll replace him with? I doubt it'll be someone as good."

"Well, _sorry_, if I can't be Mr. Perfect all the time. That's his job!" Sweat simmered on his forehead. Jennifer jumped back, stung by the sarcastic venom of his statement. "Sorry. I didn't mean... We just have to try, okay? If we lose our jobs here, Sheppard doesn't have a chance in hell."

* * *

**A/N: How was it? So, quick recap:**

**SG-1 and the SGC now know that John took a jumper.**

**The IOA have threatened to court martial anyone who doesn't help them find John - so they can do the same to him.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I am so sorry for not updating sooner. . But I'm here now, so you don't have to mount an attack. Maybe. I'm stuck in bed for the past few days, so that's why you got so lucky. But I have box sets (that I'm so obsessed with right now), my laptop and a nice book to comfort me. A big thanks to all you great reviewers from the past two chapters and, don't worry, you'll get some Sparky soon enough. I hope this chapter lives up to certain expectations. As usual, I own nothing.**

* * *

"I still don't think it's safe. Whatever loop-hole you try, someone will lose here. And that someone will be whoever...aids...John. Don't try it." Sam's firm tone travelled in crisp clarity down the phone line, startling Jack out of his sense of security. His ego was still bruised and sore from their 'incident' at his cabin, some time before, and the fact that she could still condescend him (even through a phone call) wasn't helping his healing. Teeth gritted, he returned his mind to the topic.

"Fine. I thought you'd _actually_ developed a sense of fun, for a minute there." He winced at his own words as soon as they slipped from his mouth. For all that he adored her (and tried to deny it), they clashed at painfully significant moments.

"How do I know-" she began. He picked the apprehension in her voice with an ease that came from years as colleagues.

"That I won't make a break for it when night falls and hope that some battered old cargo ship will get me halfway across the galaxy before you can find me?" Jack broke into what could've been a tidal wave of a lecture. "You can't. You've just got to trust me."

"Sorry if that's a little difficult. Especially with-" Sam used her frustration to fuel the volume of her protest - even though Jack wasn't listening to her. He was listening to the _noise_.

"Quiet." He hushed her, concentrating on the monotonous buzzing that strung higher and higher. It poured from the speaker of his phone, like a million radios ahead been set to produce static and then crammed into the room. "You hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"That," Jack muttered. His eyes fell to the source of the noise. The old-fashioned radio, that he'd kept for mere sentimentality, was clattering about of it's own accord. It leaped across the wooden surface as though it was possessed.

"Jack, what are you talking about? Jack?" Her questions fell on ignorant ears. The man in question approached the animated appliance, the sound increasing to gut-wrenching heights with every step.

"What the..." he spoke, transfixed on its movements. All of a sudden, minute sounds became more distinguished.

_Are those...words?_ Jack thought but shook his head only a moment later, trying to physically decompose the theory that had begun to form in his mind. He pinched the bridge of his nose with the hand that wasn't still occupied by the phone. When he glanced back up, the object had stilled and the room was eerily silent. Waves of uncertainty lapped at him eagerly. They weighed heavily on his limbs as a thumb brushed over the phone to end his call. _Something's still wrong. Can't shake it..._

Little did he know, his instincts weren't so off-course. Even as a microscopic device shifted in its crevice.

* * *

John slapped himself into lucidity for, quite possibly, the hundredth time that night. If it was still night. The surrounding blackness gave no hint as to what time it would be on Earth, or any planet. For a person that had grown so accustomed to space, he couldn't help but be disorientated by the continuous travel. Moving lights and information displays blurred before his eyes. Yet sleep evaded him. He turned and caught his reflection - and the day-old stubble there. Light hairs pressed into his skin as his fingers examined the facial hair. It was a welcome distraction from watching the autopilot guide him down to the nearest 'welcoming' trade supplier.

"If they'll even sell to me," he grumbled. "No money, no rest, no supplies... Common theme here, Sheppard?"

A sharp beep woke his from his bout of self-pity. His vision flicked up to the view screen.

"Ah, here we go," John muttered, disengaging the autopilot and drawing himself into the planet's atmosphere. The interior of the ship vibrated as the turbulence hit, but it took only moments for the motion to wane. Ground flew up to meet the bottom of the jumper and jostled John in his seat, forcing him to claw at the previously 'solid' material just to stay upright. However, when the ride came to a much calmer end, his mouth split into a grin as he heard the cloud of noise emanating from the distant market. Laughter, chatter and one other thing... Food. The scent entwined itself with the wind. It made his mouth water - almost literally. Just something that _resembled _the kind of food he was used to would be a welcome miracle.

"Welcome," chirped a young boy that stood in the opening to the jumper. "Are you travelling alone?"

"Kind of. Do you know where I can get supplies? You know, food, drink..." John raked a hand through his hair.

"Follow me. It's been a while since we had a visitor that didn't come through the ring," he explained, starting to walk away. Sheppard took one look at the gear strewn around the ship and abandoned it in favour of running after the child. "My mother says hundreds of other worlds have one, too. Does yours not?"

John had to pause for a moment before replying. His world? Could he call Earth that anymore? Could he even call Atlantis his home? With Elizabeth gone...

"I don't really have a world," John told him, finally, when he noticed the beginnings of a street ahead of them.

"Was it damaged? Or taken over? Or were you banished?"

"Look, kid... It's complicated. I appreciate this but quit with all the questions, okay?" He shot the younger man a pained look. The two locked eyes and didn't acknowledge the approach of a third person.

"Enough. Please, allow me to help our visitor. You have chores to do," the new presence announced. The boy grumbled but stalked away regardless, leaving the new arrival to turn his attention to John. "I apologise for him. He gets a little...excited. As he's probably said already - travellers from the sky are rare. I saw your ship land and it looks rather large. You'll be wanting supplies, I suppose?"

"Yeah, that'd be right..."

"I'm Alihn." Alihn offered out a hand and a warm smile to John.

"John," he replied, taking the hand. And removing it all too quickly when a shiver passed through him.

"You're lonely... Are you looking for someone? That you know, I mean." Alihn gazed into his eyes, as if piercing his soul, with a curiosity that seemed boundless. "A fellow man?"

"Woman, actually. She's special to me." John had to hold back from stumbling upon the final words in his sentence. "Sorry, it seems weird to be saying it out loud. How did you know, anyway?"

"I'm telepathic. There are very few of us, so there's no need to worry. I was simply concerned." He nodded, as if accepting John's underlying scepticism. "Would you like to talk about her while I collect what you need?"

"I guess so. Where should I start?"

"Try a memory."

* * *

_The wind that whipped around on the balcony only served to further the mess of John's hair but he couldn't find it within himself to care. The mission had been a success and no one was hurt. Or so he'd been led to believe._

_"John?" He spun round, facing the slim figure stood on the balcony._

_"'Lizabeth?" The hospital gown she'd previously sported was replaced with one of her familiar red t-shirt, accompanied by black trousers. He was almost left wondering whether her wardrobe wasn't entirely red and black items._

_"How are you feeling? I heard you took a bit of a tumble." She clasped her hands over her stomach. "How's your head, I mean?"_

_"Oh, yeah, that." He extended one hand to feel at the wound. "Good. What about you? You were...out there, too. Lots of shots. You sure you're not... Well... I mean-"_

_"John. I'm fine. Carson says I just need to rest," she soothed._

_"Then shouldn't you be _resting_?" John pointed out. She shot him a look of fiery independence which gradually softened. "I'm sorry, I just care. Okay?"_

_"I know you do." She stepped closer, joining him at the slanted barrier. "And I appreciate the concern. You're taking your job seriously and, if needed, going above and beyond the call of duty. I like that."_

_"You do?" His eyes lit up, momentarily, with surprise. Elizabeth nodded and straightened her posture._

_"I'd better be going now. Things to do."_

_"Yeah. Yeah, sure, go..." He waved one hand as if to dismiss her - like a friend, not a superior. If anything, he was far from superior. Not only was she his superior officer but she seemed, to him, more advanced in every sense of the statement. She was better at leading, coping and negotiating._

And looking good, _John thought to himself, a grin on his features. But a frown soon took its place when he continued, _so it's a shame I'll never be able to do more than admire it...

* * *

His conversation with the trader had been beyond exhausting, emotionally. Alihn's questions had dug deep craters in John's solid, steel exterior. And there was much to be desired in terms of his subtlety. Or lack thereof. Metaphorical wounds lying open, he trampled over even more familiar ground; fortunately, the object, held in sharp relief by the setting sun, on the horizon signalled the end of his trek back to the ship.

"Ah, home sweet home," he muttered, before he belatedly realised the pun behind his words that was fuelled by his earlier turmoil over the same subject. The jumper's 'door' had remained open, he noted, but the contents seemed undisturbed.

_Besides, _he thought with a tinge of sarcasm, _who wants to steal a fully working ship when they can steal goods from a 'small town' market..._

The air around him became heavier and the landscape darkened, just as he retreated into the cool of shelter. And promptly flopped into a slouching position in the pilot's seat and carried himself back up through the atmosphere (albeit it in a half-asleep state), and attempted to make himself comfortable amongst the hard surfaces with one eye nearing closed. Only disturbed by a sudden alarm.

"Damn you." He scowled. His attention shifted weary, but wide open, eyes onto the offending object. Each pixel-like speck of colour merged, eventually, to form his view of the 'outside world'. Six dots. He recognized one of them as his own and another two seemed to be something similar to satellites - it appeared the final three were, as well. However, when he drew away in the expectation that they'd continue to orbit the planet, they pulled away. Mimicking his every move. Charging weapons. Circling like vultures.

* * *

**A/N: How was it? Quick recap for those of you who might have skipped certain shippy parts:**

**Jack's radio received a strange signal, and there's a microscopic device planted in his cabin.**

**John stopped off at a planet to buy supplies, then had a flashback as he explained Elizabeth to a trader named Alihn.**

**Afterwards, he returned to orbit to find that he was being followed.**

**Again, I couldn't be more sorry that this chapter was late. It's been a bit of a struggle with medical issues, recently, and it's been difficult to concentrate at certain times. Anyway, let me know what you think of this chapter. And no flaming unless I get chocolate afterwards. :P Bye!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: It's a miracle, I updated before two weeks passed! XD Hello, guys. Or girls. Thanks so much to those who reviewed that I replied to in PM and also to my guest reviewer. I've ironed out some creases in the other three chapters - in terms of locations. You'll find the occasional thing changed. I also realize that the separate storylines of John trying to find Elizabeth, Atlantis having trouble because of him, and Jack having some funny business going on at his cabin are a little confusing. Don't worry - they will all merge into one with time. No point in saying it now - the point is to write the story, right?**

**So, I'm 'extremely' sad that I own nothing (D:). But, on the plus side, not being TPTB allows me to bring you the next chapter! By the way, this chapter is purely John. Not purely Sparky, even though it is part Sparky.**

* * *

John's heart stopped. He'd always found pride in his ability to fly and battle simultaneously but, in that moment, he found himself cursing the arrogance and haste of his plan. He'd presumed he'd not run into trouble, he'd presumed he could manage alone and it was a long shot that he'd actually be able to purchase the right supplies from _any_ planet. Cursing under his breath once more, he allowed his finger to entirely bypass the communications panel and lead him right to powering his own weapons.

"See if you like that, eh?" he chuckled as he felt the energy begin to build. And, in a blink, the weapon had discharged. It thundered towards the ship at the centre of the aliens' formation, hitting the unfamiliar hull and dissolving like sugar in water. "I guess you don't..." John hummed. He slouched back into his chair and raked his eyes over his surroundings - any gap in the way they encompassed the jumper would certainly compensate for their stubborn armour. Just then, a violent shudder ran through the jumper, tossing John onto the floor.

_Argh. Lovely little gits. _He scowled internally. A throbbing had possessed his head. Regardless, he brought himself to a stand again. The screen told him that his new 'friends' were preparing to attack again. _Yep, definitely lovely._ His reasons for continuing the mental commentary was something he didn't care to admit in the middle of a space battle just outside of a planet's orbit. As if on cue, another pulse shot through the ship. This time it forced a whine from the panel next to him, right before sparks burst out. He had to escape. So he dropped back down into his chair and angled the ship, doing his best to evade the aliens in the confined area. Then some higher power seemed to take favour on him - a gap emerged from the tight-knit formation. He sped towards it, blinking as a much more familiar light washed over him upon his exit. He'd been scanned.

John hissed, pushing the engines until they begged and screamed for rest. Only a minutes later did he recognize that he was alone now. They hadn't followed. Had they found what they wanted? Were they planning another attack? Or was it just a case of taking easy prey but not following the unworthy? If the latter was true, for once, John would be happy to take the title if it meant he made one less enemy.

_But you can't keep going like_ that_, _he thought, cataloguing the damage in his head. A busted auxiliary panel on the opposite side - he probably wouldn't be needing that so he supposed the repair could wait. Next there were two fallen wires in the back end. He just huffed and stuffed them back inside. Slightly more worrying was the near-breach of the 'door'. And, _his _only casualty, a head injury. He seized the medical kit, padded at the blood and swallowed a pair of painkillers. Running wasn't safe. Then again, neither was staying put.

* * *

If he'd thought children asking 'are we there yet' were beyond annoying, he'd have been proved sorely wrong. John now realised that your own mind asking you whether you'd reached your destination was much worse. He almost missed Rodney. With a snort, he tried to think of what the scientist would say.

"I knew he liked me," he'd have told the others. In fact, John had a feeling he'd never hear the end of the matter. And Teyla would practically lecture him for 'allowing his heart to rule his head'. Though, if his IQ (according to McKay) was anything to go by, his heart would be a much better judge of the situation. But Ronon...

"Nice one, Sheppard," was what he'd say. Of all the people on his team, the Satedan was the most rambunctious and most likely to go along with his reckless, mad schemes. John shook his head to clear the thoughts - nostalgia wasn't his thing, was it? Dispelling the idea, he dragged the jumper across the 'border' of yet another alien system. Except this one was special. It was the system in which they'd left Elizabeth. He didn't exactly expect her to be in the same spot but the fact that he held the knowledge of her whereabouts, and was finally able to use it, drew feelings out that he'd neglected to experience for so long that they were almost unrecognizable.

His chest was tight with the anticipation. Heavily laboured breathing escaped his throat as the system scanners began their sweep. For a short moment in time (back on Atlantis) he'd come to accept that he'd never see her again. Now he was within a flight's distance. And it strangled his insides with raw emotion.

"Hurry up," he urged the scanners aloud. Miraculously, they seemed to be listening; a light flashed up to signal the completion while the results spread across the view screen. His heart leapt when the pattern he'd inputted - Elizabeth's pattern - was detected.

_But why is it so weak? _The question formed in his mind naturally, hatching a whole new nest of worrisome creatures inside of him. The older, more carefree John Sheppard shot him a naïve laugh and implored him not to worry. _It doesn't mean anything, _he told the new John. And the lovesick puppy that he had become snatched up the relief while it could.

* * *

_John strolled through a lush, green field. He had no idea how he had gotten there but he was certainly there. And he was wearing cool summer clothing. How had he gotten into those? He hadn't worn something like that in years. Nevertheless, he was obviously wearing them now. He looked down - his feet were carrying him, on autopilot, through the tall green blades of grass and the intermingling flora. Suddenly, another figure was rushing towards him. It was blurred but distinctly female, too._

_"Hello?!" His voice sounded alien and distant. "Who are you?"_

_"Don't you recognize me?" Joy and warmth flooded from the female's voice. And then she stepped into the light._

_His breath was stolen. By none other than Elizabeth Weir. She beamed at him as her hair, a little longer than before, fluttered and flowed with the wind. She wore her usual 'red and black' ensemble, striking John with memories that were both good and bad. Her smile tugged further at the corners of her lips. She stepped forward._

_"Sure I do, 'Lizabeth." He smiled back in spite of the unusual proximity she had gained. Then her face drew closer to his and her lips were becoming more detailed by the second. And the world dissolved._

John shot bolt upright. Fragments of the dream floated about in his mind. How her lips had been so close was tantalizing, torturing. Taunting... With an indignant buzz, the ship reminded him that he wasn't on autopilot and demanded his attention. John rolled his eyes and amended the direction of his flight. Crashing into a planet wouldn't be the ideal end to his journey. Especially if that dream was an indicator of the future.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading this chapter, even if it was a little short. Here's the summary:**

**John exchanged fire with a fleet of alien ships who tried to scan him but _just _managed to escape without lethal damage to him or the ship.**

**John dreamed about finding Elizabeth but woke up just as the dream got 'better', finding that he was veering off course and had to reset it.**

**This was a chapter to move John along, I hope you Sparky/John fans enjoyed it. _Don't _kill me for the way the dream ended. Or I won't be able to write anymore. And I apologise to you people who are here for just the Sam/Jack, you'll get a chapter too. :P I don't have favourites. Okay, maybe I do. But they're characters, not readers! ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello again! Thanks so much to Tel Nok and my guest reviewer last chapter. :) Now, this is the chapter where I'll be merging two of the storylines and it'll, hopefully, become less confusing. I'm sorry that this chapter is Sparky-less. As a gift to Tel Nok Shock, I wrote a Sparky one-shot so feel free to check it out if you're feeling deprived. :P I also apologise for not posting sooner, a lot's happened. Sadly, I own nothing. Enjoy the chapter (and please note that the first section is Sam/Jack and the rest is general/team)!**

* * *

Sam grumbled and held up the almost useless remains of an alien scanner. One component that resembled a display screen flickered to life, only to splutter out a trail of sparks and die moments later. The last team that to return to the SGC from another planet had been incredibly protective of the items they'd acquired there. Not only that, but the information they gave her was barely worth getting out of bed for - literally. It was as thought they didn't really want to tell her anything...

"Bored with our new toys, are we?" She spun round and spotted Jack, lingering by the door, with an indifferent expression on his features. Or so a stranger would think - Sam knew him well enough to know that it wasn't one of his moods. Driven mad with boredom, maybe, but never indifferent. Another thing she recognised was that he wasn't as stupid as he made himself out to be.

_Perfectly capable of acting,_ she reminded herself. Meanwhile, Jack had crossed the threshold of her lab and had taken up position, leaning against the table she was working at, with his hands stuffed in his uniform pockets. She shook her head to clear her wandering thoughts.

"They've barely given me enough to work with." Sam showed him her frustration in short, snipped sounds.

"I can have a word with them, if you like. Get you some more stuff to work with," Jack offered. More often than not, the room they occupied would be full to the brim of tiny pieces for her to scrutinise - however, that time, it was uncomfortably empty.

"No, I'll be fine," she declined, resting both hands on the cool surface of the table. "There has to be a reason for it and I'm not about to meddle where I'm not welcome."

"Not welcome? Carter, you've been here for years. As far as I'm concerned, you're the best mind around. The best one to work with those guys. Screw them." His fierce gaze seared a hole within her. The intense emotions she found lingering behind his irises unearthed something that even she, the ever-intrepid explorer, was reluctant to touch upon. And so she steered them closer to safe harbour.

"What's this about, Sir? I'm assuming you came here for something." Sam raised an eyebrow. Jack paused and exhaled on laboured breath. "I really to finish analysing these, Jack."

"Fine, fine." He held up his hands in defeat. "Look, about yesterday-"

"Don't bother apologising, it's okay," she replied, voice edged with warning. "It's my fault."

Jack froze. Apologise? Fault? Their moment could barely stand on its own two legs compared to the activities Jack had witnessed - and participated in - in his life, but it made him like a small boy receiving candy. After all they had endured together, he hadn't thought for a moment that she wouldn't return his feeling with the same, willing way. Discouraged and downcast, he searched for the nerve to continue the conversation.

"Fault? Sam, that wasn't something you blame people for. We could work this out. I could get an exemption, if you're serious..." He haggled with her like a tourist trying to find a taxi that would take him home out of the rain. Unfortunately, a kernel of hope had latched onto that courage. The look of weariness in her eyes changed to pity and she stepped closer. In a meaningless gesture, her hand fell to his shoulder.

"Sir, don't make this difficult. Don't do something _we'll_ regret later - our friendship matters to me," she pleaded with him. Sorrow leaked into her blue orbs, wrenching Jack's heart from his chest. "I'm going to check these tests at the infirmary. Bye."

And she left him where he stood, tumbling down his bottomless pit of despair. Never to hit rock bottom. Never to stop falling. Falling for her.

* * *

Jennifer was furious. She knew John's escapades had been weighing down on the crew's shoulders like a rock, but the anarchy had gone too far. In the early hours of that morning, Keller had stumbled into the infirmary only to find that cabinets had been left in atrocious disorder by a crazed mourner of John Sheppard. Alongside the entire infirmary: snapped tubing, filthy needles, used wipes. And the smell... The smell had been utterly ghastly.

_You'd have thought something had died. _She rolled her eyes before halting in her angered footsteps. _Maybe it has._

When she looked up, she realised she'd reached her destination - Woolsey's office. However, it wasn't him sat in the chair with an idol grin playing across their features.

"Can I help you?" the clinical female voice queried, as an icy glare singled her out. Not that they had much company.

"Where's Mr Woolsey?" Jennifer probed, crossing her arms over her chest. The haughty woman seemed to ponder whether or not to divulge the information.

"He's not here at the minute. You may direct your questions at me," the (still-nameless) IOA operative told her, as if it were the most obvious thing in the galaxy.

"Alright. Maybe you could explain why my infirmary looks like a bomb site, then." She dragged them straight to the matter at hand. Even after a few seconds, it had become clear to her that more argument would only be met by endless resistance.

"A bomb site, you say? Perhaps you should ask the nurses you put on the night shift." The woman shrugged and took a sip of the elegant glass in front of her. A sinful smirk rose to her lips as the crimson liquid slid down her throat.

"Why? They always leave it clean and tidy." The doctor's brow creased in confusion. She'd always relied on them - ever since she'd arrived at Atlantis.

"No, they don't. John Sheppard always leaves it 'clean and tidy'. After all, what would a madman do when he can't sleep?"

If Jennifer didn't know better, she would have been surprised that the other woman didn't have a maddening grin on her face. Not only had she insulted one of the most revered Atlanteans but she'd done so in front of a close friend of his. At first, she had despised her simply for her self-centred demeanour and being part of the IOA. But, from that moment onwards, the battle of wits had become personal.

"He isn't a madman. And I'm not too sure he'd like you saying that; he was a good man," Keller spat back. If her tone had been linked with the environmental controls, the room would've had a chilly, glistening makeover - the operative's gaze turned stony.

"I don't think he'll have too much to say about it, Doctor Keller. Especially because he'll never step foot in this city again. We're abandoning the search."

Heads turned at the crisp clear words. The technicians gasped. Passing military officers narrowed their eyes. And Ronon rested his finger against the trigger of his gun. Anger boiled beneath the surface, sizzling down to his fingertips. He charged into the office.

"What makes you think you can do that?" The hand containing the gun was slammed onto the table with its sibling, throwing the contents a few centimetres into the air. "Answer me. Why?"

"The cost is greater than the reward," was her simple answer.

"No, no, you can't do that." Ronon shook his head and turned to Jennifer. "She can't do that, right?"

"She can. And you know that, don't you?" she hissed with a roll of her eyes. "It doesn't matter, we'll just search for him ourselves, you know. All of us."

"I'm sure you will." She chuckled. "Which is why I'll be removing AR-1, the base's current leader and the remainder of the senior staff from active duty. Including the approaching off-world reconnaissance missions via the SGC's gate"-she hesitated before adding the next part-"and, Mister Dex, the rest of the expedition will heed our warning. Otherwise they'll follow suit."

* * *

Atlantis' briefing room was eerily empty that late in the evening - even after several changes of leadership, meetings had always been held reasonably early. However the place was now under, as some would say, 'new management'. Their first decree as leaders? To wake Rodney McKay up while he was napping. He wouldn't have minded if they'd disturbed him when he was wracking his brains over one of his projects. In fact, he might have thanked them. But he'd forgone the necessity of sleep the previous night and he'd be damned if he was forced to do it again.

"Great, so they brought us all here," came a grunt from the doorway. Ronon strolled in through the doors, frowned at McKay's dishevelled appearance and flopped down into a chair. Not far behind him was Teyla, looking the most alert of the trio. Still, Ronon swore he spotted a line of exhaustion marking her skin.

"Have either of you any idea what they wish to talk about?" She looked from one weathered man to the other, searching for the answer in their blank expressions. Rodney half-smiled and sat up straighter.

"If I did, I wouldn't be here. I'd be in bed," he told them. The Satedan chuckled, nodding his approval.

"I might just go to bed anyway, just to see how they react." Ronon snorted. "Teyla?"

"I think-" she began, until she found herself cut off by an unfamiliar, cold female voice.

"That you should be quiet and listen to what I have to say? Wise decision, Miss Emmagan. Now, about the suspension I mentioned to Mister Dex earlier. I'm the sure the news has spread."

"And the purpose of this meeting is what? Yes, we know. Can I go now?" McKay pressed, before their new leader had even taken her seat.

"No, Doctor McKay. You may not. Just a few introductions, is all. First off - I'm Doctor Alexander. My given name isn't important." She dumped an armful of files onto the table before continuing. "Tying you to the fence will leave us short-staffed so we brought in a few extras. Meet your replacements..."

The three exchanged puzzled looks. Who _had _they drafted in?

"AR-1, meet - or should I say greet? Yes, _greet_ the original SG-1."

* * *

As the door swung open before Jack, his feet became rooted to the ground. And not just because his shoes had fantastic non-slip coatings. The eyes of the remaining three members of Atlantis' flagship team were trained upon him and the group behind him. Daniel slipped past him and into the room, closely followed by Teal'c. Teyla nodded to them, smiling at Sam who was barely visible in the shadowy recesses of the corridor.

"Well, I see you're all here. I'll let you...talk. Goodnight. Make sure you show our guests to rooms on this sheet, by the way," she said, addressing McKay, Teyla and Ronon in her last sentence. The next thing they knew, eight become seven and the door shut behind her, leaving just a white sheet with a few black scribbles lying on the table. Rodney let out a sigh of relief.

"I don't know about you guys but I'd rather just head off to bed." He held up his hands. Looks passed between the companions and Teal'c gave an affirmative in the form of a muttered 'indeed'. Teyla reached for the piece of paper and scanned it.

"It appears your rooms are all on the same corridor. Not far from here, actually," she told them. "I'll walk you there, if you like."

"Yeah, thanks. That'd be...good," Daniel accepted, revealing the stuffed bag at his side. "Got everything, Jack?"

"Don't worry, I'm not losing it yet." He chuckled. "But, just so the three of you know, I'm on your side. They might have suspended you but they can't get rid of two teams. You'll get him back."

* * *

**A/N: Gah, don't kill me. I told you, all is not lost! I just wanted to thank everyone reading so far. And whoever guest reviewed Broken Toys and said that I made them grin every time I published something Sparky... You're an angel! :D Thank you. The recap:**

**Jack tried to get Sam to talk about what happened at his cabin, but she rejected his attempts and walked out.**

**Keller found her infirmary in a mess and discovered that the search for John is off and Woolsey is gone.**

**In place of the suspended flagship team, SG-1 have been brought in. But are they really loyal to the people playing God?**

**See you soon!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hello! :) First, I want to thank my guest reviewer and member reviewers. It's great to hear what you think! Again, I apologise to Sparky fans - there's only a mere mention of that ship in this chapter. To be fair, there are only hints of Sam/Jack - Jack thinking about recent events between him and Sam and Sam appearing in the second section of this chapter. There's a little bit of swearing, courtesy of Jack and his terrible mornings. About the sections... The second one was originally supposed to be last and the last one was supposed to be second with various different alterations. They were minor and it seemed to help the atmosphere if I ended it this way. So, without further ado, I own nothing and that's why I'm here! :D**

**P.S. I apologise if you like airplane food. ;P**

* * *

An unwelcome gloom had taken up residence in Jack's room but it paled in comparison to that of his mind. A switch had been flicked, a lightbulb had simmered and died. Although he wasn't the eager explorer that his team mates could be, he was always ready for another adventure. Except, this time, he'd landed in the middle of a crisis.

_Just my luck, _he mused, stretching into a crescent form to avoid the headboard. _All I need now is a giant squid to swallow me from one of the piers. Stupid squid. I'm worse than airplane food._

Huffing out another breath, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and came to a stand in one fluid motion. Thoughts were momentarily interrupted as he clawed blindly for his suitcase. Soon, however, his hand came into contact with a semi-solid, rectangular surface and he tugged at the zip - the front flopped forward, a dark t-shirt and part of his BDUs spilling out onto the floor. An expletive rushed from his lips.

"I hate mornings." He grimaced. The suitcase's cover hit the floor with a disheartening 'thump'. "And crappy suitcases."

Resting his back against the foot of the bed, Jack closed his eyes. Dressing could wait. All the best people were fashionably late for work and meals.

_Except Sam, _he thought. _She's _always _punctual, unless she has a reason. I wonder if she got enough sleep after what happened in her lab._

His wonderings brought him to the previous night. If he hadn't been so encompassed by exhaustion, he'd probably have encountered insomnia somehow. His dreams had been miniscule, non-existent things. But the morning was going to be an obstacle of its own. So he threw on the nearest items of clothing and whipped a deodorant can across his body before he stepped out onto the corridor. The body of Atlantis hummed with a gentle life but still not gentle enough for him - he felt like finding the nearest interface and making his displeasure known. Only, he figured it already was. Doors eased open to his side and Teal'c strolled out, not a single sign of fatigue in sight.

"Good morning, O'Neill." He nodded stoically in the younger man's direction.

"Is it? It doesn't feel like one," Jack replied. With one glance at his face, the Jaffa knew that his 'wake up call' had certainly been an unpleasant one for him - he had, as the Tau'ri put it, got out the wrong side of bed.

"I believe the others are already in the Mess Hall. It would be prudent to get there as soon as possible," Teal'c said, adeptly evading the sensitive subject. Jack wasn't unaware of the (albeit thin) pair of kid gloves his companion had equipped himself with although, when his stomach screamed at him, he dismissed the issue to prioritize food.

"So," he began and stepped into the transporter. "Where do you think this is going to go? The situation, I mean, not the elevator."

"Of that, I am unsure. I _am _sure, however, that it can not end well." Teal'c turned to him, signature eyebrow raised. O'Neill quieted at that, seeming to sink into some state of silent agreement. Just then, the doors pinged open. He winced; the noise hit him.

"Deja Vu," he muttered, earning a puzzled glance from Teal'c. "Reminds me of the school cafeteria, buddy. It's not like back at the SGC - this place isn't just a dining hall, it's a chat room. A rumor mill. A gossip centre."

"So it appears. Ah, Dr. McKay is over there." The Jaffa pointed in Rodney's direction. Jack's eyebrows mimicked the movements of Teal'c's and waved reluctantly back in the direction of the man flapping his arms around in the air. Daniel, who was seated behind him, 'waved' the hand holding his coffee mug.

_Well, at least I know the drinks aren't poisoned here, _Jack jested. His eyes wandered to the table's other occupants - Sam, Jennifer, Ronon and Teyla. The former was in a discussion with Keller and, whatever it was, the subject had obviously seized both their attentions. Which often meant that he'd have no hope of understanding it. The Satedan of the group was polishing off a previously full plate of food and the Athosian had been staring ahead in contemplation and had just noticed them, granting them a smile full of grace.

"Please, come and sit down. Your teammates have brought you food already." She gestured to the two unoccupied places with trays in front of them. As he sat down, Jack noted that the person who'd chosen his breakfast had opted for the wrong style of eggs - it had to be Daniel, Sam knew him too well. He added it to his mental to-do list to let him know. Sam tapped Jennifer on the shoulder and the two women returned their attention to the group.

"So, basically, they've turned the city into a dictatorship overnight," the female doctor explained. Jack zoned in on her words.

"What is this about Napoleon's great-great-granddaughter?" he enquired. Sam mouthed a 'yep'.

"It's not just her - Jennifer was just telling me - she has back-up. A small group of them," she told him distastefully. At this, another few choice swears escaped his lips.

"So where are these guys? Too scared to show their faces?" Jack glanced around the commissary, searching for the appearance that said 'I'm so reputable, you won't _dare _say no to me'.

"As if." Rodney sniffed in indignation. "They're over by the door. Watching everything, the little..."

"They're standing in on my sparring sessions now. Beast control." Ronon rolled his eyes and loaded another mouthful onto his fork. "At this rate, I should just follow Sheppard. Might stop me from wringing their necks."

"No, we have to act carefully. Or we will just _prove_ ourselves to be savages," Teyla insisted in a firm tone, staring down at Ronon as a visual reprimand. The man just huffed and tossed a laser-quality glare over by the entrance - John and Elizabeth would've been proud.

Meanwhile, as they observed the scene from far away, one alien was _very _proud. Proud that their cameras showed a succeeding experiment.

* * *

"Hello."

Ronon jumped out of his skin, as uncharacteristic as it was, at the sudden presence behind him. He felt like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Not that he was really familiar with what it was like; Sateda wasn't known for cookie jars. However, he relaxed a little when he recognised it as Jack's.

"Oh, hey. I thought you were..." He scanned their vicinity. "I thought you were one of _those guys_. IOA."

"Not a lot of love there for them, is there? If it helps, make up insulting acrostics," Jack suggested. "Ignorant Official Asses, for example."

"Don't give me any ideas." The Satedan snorted. "I'm still struggling to think why I didn't go over and burp the Satedan alphabet in their faces at breakfast."

"Now _that _would've been priceless!" The other man chuckled. "Anyway, on a more serious topic, I need a word. You okay to talk here?"

Ronon gave him and off look but nodded nevertheless.

"Sure. Go on. If you hear someone coming, just ask me about how terrible the brussel sprouts are here," he replied and shocked Jack with how poker-faced he was. As the greying human grew closer, Ronon couldn#t help the slither of doubt within him. Fortunately for Jack, his curiosity won out.

"About what you said in the mess hall earlier," he paused before deciding to rephrase. "Now, don't take this the wrong way. If it was just one of those things you say-"

"Spill it. I guarantee my ears have heard worse." Ronon tapped the soft flesh of his ear lobe and crossed his arms, watching O'Neill gather his wits.

"What you said earlier - were you serious? Would you go after him? Because it's obvious nobody with the power gives a damn and everyone else's too scared. What I'm saying is it might be 'unwise' to try it alone, but with help? Maybe not. What do you say?"

"Sheppard would've trusted you. So I guess _I_ do. What's your plan?" And he was in...

"Well, we'll need a jumper. Later. Not too late, though - after our 'leader's gone to bed." Jack plotted, voice lowering with each word he spoke.

"There's always someone on guard," Ronon informed him. And Jack's bubbled was unceremoniously (and effectively) burst. "But I know a prankster that owes me a favour - and a few smoke bombs."

"Great. It's sorted, then. I was just thinking, we can't go in and _ask_ them. That'd go well." Jack guffawed. And then _it _appeared.

"Oh, I was looking for you everywhere!" Sam popped up next to the two, frowning at Jack. "What's that about, anyway? If you don't mind me asking."

_Actually, I do... _Jack groaned mentally. Regardless, he churned out a nonsensical story and pulled the curtain across.

"I was looking for a games console like the one I saw some guy buying off of a scientist earlier. But he'd expensive and my wallet is a crater. So, unless they install ATMs, I'll have to borrow one. Ronon says he knows this guy who lends his out on a whim. We were saying we couldn't just go in and ask this...supplier for a freebie, could we?" He'd done it again. His white lie seed had turned into a tree (more like creeping ivy). And the worst part was the loyal, trusting gaze - even in their circumstances - Sam held as he pulled the wool over her eyes. It grabbed at his heart strings and dragged him away with them. So much so that he barely registered Ronon retreating into the distance. Only when he heard _those words_ did he finally come crashing back down to earth.

* * *

'Clunk'. The last spray can fell back into the box, the owners giggling like mischievous teenagers when they began to hear the familiar sound of clicking heels and lofty upper class voices drifting down the corridor. They stepped back and grinned at the 'crash site' they'd created. One of them tapped their earpiece.

"Beam us out," they whispered. "And quickly. I love the thrill of the chase but not when it's followed by the thrill of doing time."

Another, who wore a ridiculous black mask, chortled. Criminal damage was always fun until you got caught. They'd have to be careful - mercy wasn't in the IOA's vocabulary. A sprinkling of light and they were gone. Just in time, too; the door wheezed as the panels parted. Tossing her hair about while she conversed with her 'business colleague', Atlantis' new leader entered. She was, as of yet, still blissfully ignorant of the atrocious state of the room. The bald, plump man to her right nodded enthusiastically at her sentences (an idiot could bet he was only listening for his filthy paycheck). Then his eyes seemed to see, all of sudden, and not just _look_. But their first spectacle wasn't the model oppressor beside him, it was the ghastly sight of their surroundings.

"Natalia, ma'am." He gasped, lips parting in bewilderment. She turned to look, halfway through speaking a haughty 'what'.

"My room." She spat, fury sending her frame rigid and crawling along it like a parasitical vine. "Those aliens!"

"Aliens, ma'am?"

"Yes, Arthur, aliens!" Spray flew from her lips in the most unflattering manner. "Those military and civilian personnel wouldn't have done it, would they? They're stupid but not _that_ stupid!"

The man would've been taken truly aback by her behaviour - if he wasn't unhealthily used to it. And, on this occasion, he believed it was warranted.

_A pig wouldn't sleep in this room, _he thought as he took in the torn silk curtains, spray-painted walls and dilapidated drawers. He heard his companion mutter something about wild animals and claw-shredded drapes. She paced forward and lifted up a piece of diamanté-covered, peach-coloured fabric, stuffing it back in a drawer that was decorated by various different images - all cut from (what once was) a silky grey blazer. A stray pillow lay crushed on the floor, splattered with the same ink as the walls. Then she saw the message hurriedly scrawled across the wall. Anyone watching could've sworn that her eyes flashed red...

"Would you like me to find them, ma'am?" the man asked carefully, approaching her with caution.

"No. No need. Soon we won't have to punish individual miscreants. I just hope those pieces of filth are ready to find a new home. They can write what they want - I will win."

* * *

**A/N: And I end it there! I've made Natalia evil already, I know... I'm terrible. XD Anyway, the reason why I've only hinted at the message they graffitied is because I'm going to reveal more later. It's all part of my plan - my master plan to take over the galaxy! Mwhahaha! Recap:**

**Jack gets out of bed the wrong side (literally), has a battle with his suitcase and heads off to breakfast with Teal'c, where Rodney points out the 'IOA table' and Ronon isn't exactly happy with their new rules.**

**Ronon is approached later about his desire to follow John. They make arrangements and Sam interrupts, sending Ronon away - she and Jack 'need to talk'.**

**Natalia finds out that her room has been graffitied - what will she do?**

**Thanks for reading and I'd love it if you left a review! :) Bye!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hi! :) Thanks for the reviews last chapter, I'm glad it went down well. Now, some unrequited Sparky in the first section. I say unrequited because they're not 'together'...yet. :P The next section has team interaction and the last one is similar. Popcorn for everyone! Enjoy!**

* * *

_The corridors of Atlantis were deserted and isolating, dull and dim, as the city sunk into its own method of rest. John couldn't seem to recall how he'd gotten to them or whether he was supposed to be there. The lowered temperature gnawed at his extremities, pushing him into a steady stroll. Just a few steps away, doors slid open to lead him toward a familiar office. An office that had once belonged to a special someone. Machines by the gate hummed with quiet life but were left unattended in the absence of personnel. The silver giant that was the gate cast a donut-like shadow across the floor. Silence pierced everything. John's eyes landed upon the only other occupant of the scene._

_"'Lizabeth." He breathed, picking up his pace and steering in her direction. There she was, plain as day, with her head bowed and her attention encompassed by the task at hand. He could almost see her eyes questioning the data, turning each stone over once and back again. Footsteps echoed off of the very walls as he approached her, still unnoticed. When he reached her doorway, he peeked inside and spoke up. "Elizabeth."_

_"John." She beamed and ceased her actions to draw her hands in front of her. "What are you doing up so late? If you want me to stop, you'll have to wait a little. I need to finish this."_

_"No, I just..." John trailed off, wondering just _what _he was 'just' doing. "I just wanted to come and see you. You know, we don't get to do it a lot so I thought we could chat."_

_"A chat? I guess we don't 'just talk' all that much, do we?" She cleared a space on the desk and patted it. John hopped up onto the smooth surface. "So, what do you want to talk about?"_

_"I don't know... I don't suppose you do much in your free time." He fixed her with a piercing stare. Elizabeth chuckled, looking down at her tablet until she heard a superficial cough._

_"Okay, I haven't been spending _much _time doing other things. But there's so much work - besides, what would I do and who would I do it with?" She attempted to reason with him._

_"You could do anything you want, you're the boss. Fish, spar, paint... Go through the supplies and have a classy meal." He shrugged, refraining from answering her second question with the words he was forbidden to speak._

_"And who with? A meal's no good if there's no one to share it with." Her sentences made his mind kick into overdrive - what was he supposed to say? She watched him with intent, scanning for something beyond the casual coating. Somehow, in the few moments that passed before he began to speak, an undetectable signal reached him. It told him he was a fool. Was he really so fearful that it paralysed him the moment he got close to crossing the sacred line?_

Maybe I just need to take my hands away from my eyes, _he thought. And so it was decided - for him, at least._

_"Me," he replied, bracing for impact. "I mean, it's not like other people don't have meals with their Second in Command. Nothing wrong with that. Right?"_

_She chortled, shaking her head. That laugh was priceless..._

_"Are you asking me on...a _date_? I'm honoured!__" was her retort, in their little game of wits and emotions. "I think I'd like that."_

_"Tomorrow evening, then? I'll come by and get you about 1900 hours. Leave the rest up to me. I'd say dress up but I know you'll still be cooped up in here," he told her._

_"You know me too well... If it helps, I'll take a break at lunch. Just to get changed into something that I didn't just throw on when I got up." She rose from her chair and stood in front of him. John grinned._

_"You throw things on? I would never have guessed."_

_"Oi, you!" Elizabeth chastised him as she slapped his arm playfully. "You know what I mean."_

_"I do. And honestly... I think you look good in anything." At his open admission, her cheeks began to mirror the t-shirts her self-imposed dress code. She felt the skin heat and tingle, though she mouthed a tiny 'thank you' regardless. "No problem. See you later?"_

_"Bye." She waved, watching him slide off of the desk and stride into the distance. All she heard was his footsteps and the gentle thudding of her own heart, but John's ears uncovered so much more. His chest heaved as he tried to come to terms with what he'd just managed. What he could always have managed if he hadn't be so scared..._

And it was then when he sprung bolt upright.

"Damn... That was so real," he said, beginning to work some of the sudden tension from his muscles. The jumper was exactly where he'd 'parked' it and the screen was still displaying its various pieces of information. He shuffled over to it. "Still cloaked. Alright, let's get started with that scan..."

He had to find her exact location - would her signature still be weak? Carefree John made yet another appearance, sniggering naïvely. His worrisome counterpart thrashed within his grip, pining for the safety of his treasure. That part of him was still reeling as it processed the fact that there wouldn't be a 'tomorrow evening'. Not in the way he hoped. John allowed his eyes to close. A prayed-for reality remained a dream. Would it always?

* * *

Jack tapped his foot - or, rather, he would've if it wouldn't have alerted the guard patrolling only inches away from him. Some time ago, he'd begun cast intermittent glances over his shoulder and had grown increasingly fidgety, until his partner in crime arrived beside him.

"Sorry I'm late," Ronon whispered. Numerous weapons hung from his equipment belt, their clinking cushioned by the smooth yet sturdy material of his trousers. Jack made a nod of approval.

"Looks like you're ready, huh?" He raised an eyebrow. The Satedan nodded and peered past Jack into the corridor where the guard lurked. "He's not alone, there's another one on the other side of the door in case anyone tries to jump this guy. Any plans?"

"I go over, shoot them both and make a run for it?" Ronon suggested, smirking at the utter recklessness of his plan.

"No can do... As much as I'd love to, we'll both get caught. We need a distraction." Jack surveyed the area around them. Then it hit him. "If I make some noise, you think you can get in there and get going before they come back."

"It'd have to be one hell of a racket," the alien pointed out. Despite his projected rough-and-tough exterior, the contours of his face had started to deepen and contort as hands with drenched palms grated over the material of the belt. The General recognized the familiar emotion. However, he feigned ignorance and yanked the conversation back onto its narrow straight.

"I can manage it. Just get ready to run from behind here when I've got them both distracted, okay?" Jack queried. Ronon nodded - and no sooner had the man agreed than Jack had torn off, crashing seamlessly into the first guard. An almighty thud sounded as they bowled into the wall, which was only contributed to by his lead-footed partner 'racing' onto the scene. It was then that Ronon seized the opportunity, pelting for the jumper bay. The second officer turned gradually to face him as his figure became a blur. Catching sight of that, Jack pretended to lose his footing once again and sent the shell-shocked enemy to the ground. Meanwhile, Ronon had clambered the ramp of the nearest jumper and dropped himself into a chair. Until he realised the unforeseen fault in their plan - he didn't possess the ATA gene.

"Damn it! I'm not Sheppard, or McKay. But if they were here..." He shot a glance at the tablet by the rear end of the ship. A grin spread across his face.

_I can get a power surge to...push...the ship. It'll keep me going for a bit but it'll blow the hyperdrive, _he thought. As he remained stationary, devising a plan, the guards had recovered (part of the duo had even helped Jack to his feet). Alarms began to blare, accompanied by their best friend - a blinding red flash that engulfed the city. _Too late, _Ronon decided, _just have to use the gate._

The rear hatch rose into place. Ronon's fingers flew rapidly over the screen of the tablet. His heart hammered against his ribcage like an enclosed beast. Only inches from his face was the established wormhole, enticing him into entering it. In the blink of an eye, he was gone.

Jack had stepped back with his attention on the guards as they rushed into the bay, only to discover that Ronon had made his escape. Footsteps drew him away from the sight when his team rushed towards him, flanked by Lanteans and IOA alike. Teal'c examined the now-obscured spectacle in the jumper bay; the guards had gained company. Daniel and Sam 'crowded' around him, the latter wearing an 'almost' suspecting expression.

"Sir." She panted. "Why is the alarm going off? I didn't even know this place had one like that."

"Yeah, Jack, what happened?" Daniel added, taking up his 'engaged' stance. O'Neill bit his lip.

_Forget the report, how the hell am I supposed to explain _this_?!_

* * *

Stretching, John eased forward in his seat. The scan was complete - even before he'd checked, something felt _off_. Wrong... The results revealed themselves but the first thing he came across wasn't Elizabeth's signature. It was another ship, lurching towards him in an awkward motion. As though someone wasn't 'behind the wheel' (or whoever was behind it had downed a few too many beers). Power was building up at one point on the vehicle - leaping to attention, he charged weapons.

_Danger, danger, danger! _his mind screamed. Then a communication opened itself up.

"Hey, Sheppard." A familiar voice greeted him. Jaw loose, he ceased his actions with a dash of relief.

"Ronon," he replied, tapping a few buttons to deactivate his weapons. "Nice to see you, buddy, but how'd you fly the jumper? Not that I don't think you're talented but those things kind of come with a gene clause."

"I got behind it and pushed, if that's how you say it. Long story short, the power's drained," Ronon explained. John nodded and gave him an amicable smile. "Just so you know, I'm not here to drag you back there. I'm here to back you up."

As John mulled over what his reply would be, a satellite body turned beside them. It charged. And two piercing beams erupted from it.

"What the-" Ronon yelled, as his connection to John was terminated. The ship tumbled, tossing him backwards. It took a nosedive, plummeting down to the planet. And, with a heart-wrenching cry, it collided with the ground.

* * *

**A/N: And that will be all. ;P Shippy muffins for all you lovely readers, please review if you liked the chapter! And don't kill me for that little ending there - I have to stay alive for Ship Day over on GW! ****Recap:**

**John has a dream about Elizabeth but wakes up only to discover it will never happen - or will it?**

**Ronon makes a clever getaway, leaving Jack behind. But can he lie to his friends?**

**John and Ronon meet. Unfortunately, their little chat is cut short by an attack and a crash...**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hello? I didn't die after that last chapter... O.o It's a miracle. Anyway, here comes the next chapter - if you're not a fan of Sam/Jack, I'd suggest giving the last section of this chapter an incredibly wide berth (and a little bit of the first section, although that's just Sam saying she thinks Jack's involved with Ronon's disappearance). The past 7 chapters have been edited in accordance to a few dialogue punctuation errors. I've been full of ideas, recently, so my brain's a little hyped-up. I own nothing and hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Natalia's eyes narrowed to a squint as she approached Daniel, Sam and Jack. Her fist had curled around the tablet stylus which was, somehow, still glued to her palm. Bulging red lines ran along the top of her hand. Jack brought his emotions into check and forced himself to appear almost as clueless as any other bystander. The piercing sound of heels grew in volume, halting directly in front of them. Her gaze penetrated their skin.

"Doctor Alexander," Teal'c spoke. He appeared beside the three with his usual neutral expression. For a moment, the IOA operative seemed to be absorbing his closed, formal manner.

"What's going on?" Her eyes flickered from one to another before they settled on one of the guards, who stood against the wall as he cradled his bruised limbs. He groaned and groggily acknowledged them.

"The Satedan... Dex... Ronon, that's his name," he explained to them. "He took a jumper and left through the gate. God knows how he did it. He's not got the gene, as far as I remember."

"That little piece of..." Natalia began, her lids dropping to create identical slits either side of her nose.

"Best to..._not_ say anything that we're going to regret," Jack advised her. Glossed lips came to a stand-still and their owner seemed to reel herself in. "Meeting room, anyone? I don't know about you but I'd rather not have this discussion on a corridor next to the jumper bay."

Despite her raised eyebrow, which Jack could've sworn was automatic, Atlantis' leader gave her hand a small wave and stalked off in the direction of the nearest transporter. The group followed her with a limping guard trailing in their wake. As they piled into the small space, he rested on the wall beside Sam and received an exasperated look for his limp.

"What?" he asked the blonde. She simply rolled her eyes, shifting closer to the man on her other side.

"Making enemies already, Carter?" Jack jested, oblivious to the other occupants. When she didn't reply, he continued. "Look, about that talk we have before Ronon left. Why did you just walk away without us 'talking'?"

Daniel exchanged curious glances with Teal'c. The older man made a restricted shrugging motion to show his equal confusion, choosing to ignore Natalia's disapproving demeanour. There was something going on between her subordinates and she was clearly displeased at not being informed on the subject.

"I left because you weren't listening," Sam admitted and looked pointedly at him. "I can't talk to someone who's not listening."

"I was...thinking?" He presented his answer as a question, as if he wasn't sure that it was right. His companion scowled and shuffled away a little. "Look, if it's so important, tell me now. No?"

She established a deadpan stare at the opposite wall while their journey prolonged itself even more.

"No." Jack deflated, lines of fatigue becoming prominent. "Why, then?"

Sam inhaled deeply and then leaned over to him, placing her lips just beside his ear.

"Because," she paused as her breath tickled his earlobe, "I think you've got something to do with this. Ronon. Running away."

The greying male was about to reply when the doors of the transporter eased apart, and the guard trudged out - complete with the occasional hiss of pain. Sam drew away from him, towards the space where the injured man had just vacated. Jack grimaced and a twinge of regret found him. He quashed it in a stubborn bid to not look back upon his decision and regret it. The rest of the journey continued in relative silence, with only loose-ended discussions thrown back and forth between Daniel and Teal'c. At last, they arrived at their destination and piled out of the claustrophobic space. Natalia tapped her earpiece to contact Arthur - whose constant trailing around after her they'd only just become accustomed to.

"Call the others involved," she demanded. "And try to gather what's left of the senior staff. I want to see them in the meeting room. _Now._"

* * *

Steam rose from the wreck, billowing across John's face. He stirred and batted it away, as he launched into a coughing fit. His back was pressed against the floor of the jumper's rear section, so hard that he could feel its lines embossed on his back. His breaths came in clipped bursts to accompany the dampness creeping up his immobile arm. The other, which he'd used to clear the air, pressed against the ground in an endeavour to sit up.

"Argh!" John gritted his teeth and flopped back down. "Bad idea. Wait a minute... Ronon? Buddy?"

A period of ringing silence was the only reply he received - until a faint sound reached his ears.

"Here. All in one piece. I think," the Satedan croaked out. Then another response, a few seconds later. "My head might be bleeding."

"_Might?_" The black-haired Colonel frowned. "Look, hang on, I'm coming to get you. Still in your jumper?"

"Yeah," Ronon answered. "Take your time. It's not like I'm going anywhere."

John made another attempt at reaching a sitting position, this time succeeding (despite the sharp gasp of pain that followed). He glanced around.

_Not in _bad _shape_, he thought to himself. Several panels had burnt out, sparking every couple of seconds, and the rear hatch had imploded. Chunks that he deemed large enough to crush several of his limbs were scattered about. Ground swallowed the exposed end of the jumper so that earth spilled onto the cool interior. Snapping his eyes away from the spectacle, he rose to his feet and shuffled out of the vehicle. One hand gripped the frame from which the door hand been ripped - the skin covering it was pale. Gradually, he inventoried his wounds. Sticky crimson fluid trickled down the arm that hung limp by his side.

"One day I don't wear a jacket, I crash the jumper. Great move," he quipped. He shook it off and stumbled across the small distant to Ronon's jumper. The ship seemed to have fallen just the same way as his. A dead weight. With a snort, he noted that the door was not only in one piece but it was lying flat on the ground.

_Oh, the irony._

"Sheppard, I don't care if _we _don't have all day. _I _don't have all day," Ronon called out and pulled his attention back to the body lying amongst the considerably damaged interior. He laid spread-eagle across the bottom of the wreckage with one leg weighed down by a sizeable piece of the electronics. John bit his lip.

"Keep still," he ordered, then proceeded to step over a weathered tablet. One thing was for sure - the scientist who'd been forced to part with it would never get it back. The scientist's loss in mind, he nudged it with the toe of his shoe and a mis-shaped triangular section of the screen vibrated, shattering into shards. "Well... We won't be using that."

Crouched down beside his companion, he reached out for the object covering his leg. His fingers began to close around it and-

"Damn it!" John exclaimed as he tumbled backwards. The nerves in his fingers fizzled for a moment before he scrambled about in search of a substitute for protective gloves. When he finally found something to cover his sensitive skin, he grasped the item and catapulted it out into the open. For this, he received a hiss and a glower from Ronon. His wounds were exposed to the cold air, a stinging sensation crawling up his leg. John attempt to ignore it and tried to hoist the man up by his shoulders. "Come on. If we stay here, we'll probably end up dead. And I don't like the idea of that."

"How do you know something out there won't kill us?" Ronon gestured to the environment around them. Unevenly-spaced trees surrounded them - they caught sight of one that had been sawn in half by John's jumper. The man in question snorted then continued to hobble along, and drag his comrade along beside him.

"I think we're probably going to kill _it _first," he replied, after some time. The Satedan coughed and gave a messy shrug.

"That's counting we find somewhere to stay. Because those jumpers aren't going to fly again." He watched John respond with a nod before falling silent. The pair trundled on through the mud and fine blades of grass, reaching a rather convenient shelter.

_A cave, huh? _John mused. _Well, it'll have to do._

* * *

They'd been there barely five minutes - Ronon was relying heavily on the wall and John, a few inches closer to the mouth of the cave, was tearing strips off of his sleeves to bandage the gaping wounds.

"Here you go, buddy." He was about to hand them to Ronon when a low growl rose up from the darkness at the back of the cave. Their heads turned bit-by-bit until a pair of beady yellows eyes came into view. As light shone into the cave, John glimpsed the shine of claws. They scraped against the rock and moved towards them. As both became stock still, Ronon reached for his stunner. However, the moment one fingertip made contact with the trigger, the concealed beast pounced on him. It dug its claws into his already sore wounds, eliciting a sharp cry from his throat. John jumped into action. Until he realised that, while Ronon had kept his stunner in his belt, he'd brought no weapons.

_You _idiot_, _he scolded himself. _D__idn't think you'd just fly in and get her, did you?!_

His own punishment aside, hands hunted for something to use - a rock, a poisonous animal. Anything that could be a weapon. Then, as if sensing his thoughts, an object 'tapped' him on the leg. Or, rather, it thumped into it as he retreated from creature. He spun around, took in the sight and glanced over his shoulder.

_Decision made, _he thought. A streak of courage, which was seldom logical, made an appearance. It urged him to seize the object and took control of his hands as he hurled it at the animal. A distressed cry unfurled from its throat and it fled, bounding off into the distant with blood trickling down its fur. John gasped in air and meandered over to Ronon, t-shirt material in hand. The alien groaned - he let his head loll back against the curved wall.

"No, not going to happen! Okay? Stay awake." John knelt down beside him. With an unfamiliar sense of care, he started to wrap the leg wound. Blood specks had already appeared on the fabric but he ignored them - at least the wound was going to be covered. As he went about it dutifully, he looked up Ronon. Scratches and oddly-shaped marks marred his face, although it wasn't the main concern 'John the Doctor' had. It was the way his top eyelids drift downwards, almost meeting their lower counterparts. "I said _stay awake_. Come on... Tell me about Atlantis. What happened after I left? Any gossip I missed?"

"IOA took over... Some crazy woman called Doctor Natalia Alexander and her chubby assistant. Infirmary's a mess, someone graffitied her room..." Ronon sucked in a rattling breath. "Team's suspended. Gone mad. You need to...come back."

"Come back? You know I can't," John informed him, completing his task and moving onto his own injuries. "I'm not leaving until I find her. Even if it takes forever."

"You miss her that much?"

"Yeah. I guess I do," he replied as he met his friend's gaze. He offered him a meagre smile before he finished up, and turned away to watch the sun climb away from the horizon.

* * *

Atlantis' meeting room buzzed with commotion, the din gathering as more and more people occupied the room. Jennifer Keller had been roped in by a group of guards to tend to his medical needs while his presence was required there. The guard whose arm she was stitching up yelped and howled, as if the doctor was driving her needle into his skull. She rolled her eyes and dug her fingernail into the skin unapologetically.

"Quiet!" Natalia snapped. She stood haughtily at the far side of the room and waited for the silence to settle over the crowd. "Thank you. Now, could someone please explain exactly what happened? _One at a time_..."

"Dex took a jumper and went through the Stargate - after Sheppard," Arthur told her, emerging from the crowd to approach her. At that, the two witnesses scowled - Jack, who'd been lucky enough to claim a seat, simply averted his gaze.

"Well then," she vocalised, "I suppose now is a good time to tell you all of my plan."

"Your plan?" Sam queried as she tilted forward in her seat. An icy grin possessed the other woman's lips.

"Yes, my plan," she repeated with a bewitched air about her. "That is, the one that involves making this expedition human-only."

Cries of uproar drowned out any further words. Incensed soldiers and irked scientists began to yell insults about cruelty. The room's temperature rose a few degrees while rebellious individuals pressed against the crowd in a competition to claw the leader's eyes out first - Arthur had shrunk back into the corner, eyes flitting from one threatening face to another.

"There's nothing you can do!" Natalia proclaimed.

"It wouldn't even be happening if Sheppard and Ronon were here! Hell, if you let us find them, _you _wouldn't even be here!" A red-faced female soldier stepped up onto the table, hands firmly on her hips.

"You've been told before, Lieutenant, we can't and won't try to find them."

"Stop being ridiculous, you know where they went," Jack groused. Natalia zeroed in on him in an accusatory sulk. "What?"

"Is there something you'd like to share with us, O'Neill?" she questioned him. He swallowed hard and stared at Sam, who mouthed 'Jack'. It was a question. He turned away; Jack didn't want more questions.

"I do, actually." He squared his shoulders, faced his opponent and proceeded unflinchingly. "I know where they are. You know why that is?"

There was a pause, an awful lot of lip-biting and fist-clenching.

"Because I helped him escape."

Instead of a fresh lapse of ruckus, quiet suffocated them. No one uttered a sound except for hushed exchanges at the back of the crowd. Daniel, Teal'c and Teyla observed the scene from a position close to the doors.

"Psst," he uttered in his colleagues' direction. "Listen, guys, you don't have to leave. If she thinks she can take us on, she's wrong. The city won't abandon the people it knows - and if they happen to be 'aliens', then she'll just have to deal with it."

* * *

"Jack!" Sam called out, rushing after his retreating figure. She panted and began to slow down. "Wait."

"What?" the General asked as she skidded to a halt before him. Her hair was in a tangle and a flush had crept into her cheeks.

"Sorry I didn't say anything in the meeting. I just need to ask you something... In private," she imparted. Jack surveyed the area, walked over to a door and waved an arm in its direction. With a quick nod, she entered. "Thanks. Nice room."

A suitcase was lying at the bottom of the bed as though it had barely been touched (if you didn't include the half-folded boxers that hung out of it). The bed covers were wrinkled yet set in place, and the floor was clean - bar the occasional crumb or wrapper. She made a minute noise of approval.

_Better than I imagined, _she inwardly narrated. Jack had followed her inside; the door slid shut and he seemed to be waiting for her to speak.

"It took me a while to catch up with you, getting out of the room was difficult. Anyway..." Moments previously, she'd been so sure of herself. She knew exactly what she was going to say to him. Until all her plans had scattered and ran for the hills. She focused her wide orbs on him, formulating a reply hurriedly.

"Carter, just spit it out," he urged. The blonde exhaled.

"I said I suspected you but I just wanted to...check. I don't know," she paused and knotted one hand in her hair, "I just want to know why... Argh, I _sound _so cliché!"

"Stop, just hold on." He placed both hands on her shoulders to still her movements. "First of all, you're not talking in clichés. It's not like you. Just you saying that makes you sound 'not like you'. And, as for why, it's kind of complicated."

"Complicated? Jack, just tell me," Sam demanded, curiosity emboldening her. He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to will away the little voices in his head that told him 'she'll hate you for this'. After a few seconds, he drew himself out of the hopeful stupor.

"I did it because I understand him. Sometimes, craziness has an amazing clear-up rate for problems. But he needs someone to stop him beaming himself into space." Jack wandered over to couch, flopping down onto the seat with his head in his hands. "I did it because I just thought I'd help with someone else's 'happily ever after' - definitely doesn't look like there's one in my future..."

A hand tentatively reached out for his shoulder and soft fingers pressed into the fabric. Warm breath stroked his skin. However, he remained in his tight position.

"And _why_ don't you have one?" The hum of her voice vibrated from her to him and sent warm, pleasant shudders down his spine.

"Because you made it pretty clear that we don't have a chance in hell. And don't say produce some random excuse that involves the regs," he grunted.

"I won't lie, you hit the nail on the head," Sam conceded. "It's mad. We could lose everything. At the worst, we could spoil this. Our friendship. I just wish there was a way we could find out first."

"Kiss me."

"What?" She broke contact, inclining her body in the opposite direction. Her mouth hung slightly open. Then he repeated the sentence, which meant... "I'm not imagining it."

"You'll have to speak louder, my hearing's going. Look, just try it. If it goes wrong, we can just forget."

_I don't know if I can, _she mused. Then she took another look at the man who was offering his love - the unconditional, no-strings-attached type - to her. And so the decision was made. She scooted closer to him. Scents filled her nostrils. Lips hovered in her personal space. One hand came up to entwine its fingers with hers. Then she took the final leap and allowed her lips to caress his.

But, as soon as it had come, it blinked out of existence. They drew apart with hands still intertwined. Jack tightened his finger around hers, forcing her to look up at him.

"Sam?" he enquired as a jittery hope shone through to the surface.

"I'd rather not... I want to... Can we just sit here for a minute? Together?" She tried a feeble smile on for size. Deflating, Jack nodded.

"Yeah," he agreed. Despair and disappointment battled to seep into his tone, although he struck back. Again. And again. So he let her burrow into his side and embrace him - he returned the favour in the form of resting his head on hers, before drowning in his own train of thought. _Now _he knew what a bittersweet victory tasted like.

* * *

**A/N: I have two apologies for you, now. I just wanted to stuff those several thousand words in there first. XD This is the longest chapter I've written in this fic - I wrote a longer one in 'A Science Of Our Own', it was 4,000+ words. This was only 3,816. So, apologies to:**

**Sparky Fans - there _will_ be Sparky. I swear. In fact, just wait until the plot reveal I have lined up. :D**

**All readers - this chapter's so late. O.o I have so many things to beta and several writing websites to manage (amongst other) - this, FictionPress, Movellas and Wattpad. But I can promise one thing. I won't abandon this story.**

**Anyway, that said, I have another announcement before the recap. I am _seeing _whether I'll get Amazon KDP - Kindle Direct Publishing. If I do, I'll most likely stick it into a future A/N. Because I'll be too happy to resist. I won't be able to publish fanfiction but I'll definitely be producing fiction. If I can't do it now, I will in several years time. And _now _I have the recap:**

**Natalia arrives on the scene and Jack suggests they go to the meeting room to continue the conversation. She agrees and calls all other staff - on the way, Sam accuses him of helping Ronon.**

**John wakes up after the crash, finds Ronon and leaves the jumper behind.**

**Shortly after, they're attacked by an unknown creature and Sheppard's forced to fight it off. As he tends to Ronon's wounds, the Satedan relays the knowledge of Atlantis' situation to him.**

**Back in the meeting room, arguments take place and Natalia reveals her intentions of banishing all aliens. Jack is revealed to be Ronon's partner in crime.**

**Sam catches Jack after the meeting and asks to talk. He explains that he helped John because he knows he won't get his 'happily ever after'. A kiss and a hug and the chapter ends there.**

**Sorry for the long A/N, thanks for reading! :)**


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